A Painter's Dog
Ula with David and Suzanne
For the first time ever in my life, I have a dog. Ula, a tiny 12-month-old Havanese, and I are learning to do many things together these days, but my absolute most favorite thing is to have Ula at my side while I paint in the studio. She can stay quiet for hours. She asks to be picked up and played with only after I have put down the brushes and have moved into "time for a break." Then, the dog dances and becomes irresistible: No matter how breezily or strenuously the painting session has gone, Ula's main job is to tell me how much she missed and loves me. I also imagine nods of approval as she glances at the work. Suzanne and her dog --the rewards of those painting interactions far outweigh the hassles of walking the puppy in the rain and snow, figuring out how to sneak her into a restaurant, getting her not to bark at strangers, finding room in the apartment for all the stuff she needs, etc.
Tough Guy at the Hanging, Held by the Artist
Many friends have asked: Why, after all these years of not having a pet, and in what looks like a pretty organized life, did you decide to get a dog now? One reason for the change was another dog. When we were hanging the Hammertown Rhinebeck show way back in June, I met a wonderful little dog. Tough Guy accompanied his owner Virginia Strull, the woman who handled press and other arrangements for Hammertown, to the hanging. During the eight-plus busy hours that Jeff Daly, with a little help from Virginia and me, worked to put up the paintings, Tough Guy just sat and very patiently and very attentively watched us. He was a center of calm, sweetness, and affirmation. He only stirred when Virginia left the room; then, he quickly left his comfortable Hammertown armchair and followed her where she went. I thought to myself: I could have a dog like that one. I shared my wish and Virginia kindly introduced me to Mary Cane, the woman who bred Tough Guy, and explained that Mary might now have a dog or two that she wanted to put up for adoption. After all the necessary interviews, visits, and overnights, it happened, we officially adopted Ula (initially named Turbinado Sugar) last Wednesday, on October 26th.
Of course, there could also be other, more long- standing and deep-seated reasons for this turn to a dog and my idea that dogs and painting just go together. Think of all those magical little dogs that appear in the wondrous paintings by
Pierre Bonnard. Right smack in the bottom center of a large luminous canvas filled with jewel-like color is a little dog curled up on the bathroom floor. And there she/he is again in another bathroom painting or in a dining room/still life painting at the edge of the canvas, where the dog is coming in or going out and adds movement to the composition. Bonnard's works on paper also feature dogs, they are stars in the artist's presentation of contemporary French urban streets. Think about dogs and Goya. Dogs are again in many of the artists' pieces and most compellingly in what many have thought to be one of the greatest paintings ever, "The Dog" in Goya's series of Black Paintings. Think about the unforgettable dogs in Lucien Freud's work. In many canvases, the power of what Freud adds to our understanding of humanity has a lot to do with his depiction of the relationships between persons and dogs. And this list of painters with dogs could go on for a long time: Titian, Veronese, Velazquez, Chardin, Manet, Vuillard, Sargent, Hockney, and many more. How could I not get a dog?
